Too Slow, Too Late
by I'mAGeekNotANerd
Summary: THIS STORY IS FIXED! This is a different take on Coulson's death scene. If Thor hadn't been there, what would have happened? what if Captain America was there instead of Fury/Thor? NO SLASH! rated T. please read and review! i don't own avengers.


**A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG THE STORY WAS LIKE THIS, I JUST REALIZED THIS LAST NIGHT! so what happened was through some freak accident of the internet, "Too Slow, Too Late" was replaced by my other story "The Funeral" so that is why the story didn't match the summary. I've rewritten it to the best of my memory, so it's not going to be the same as it was before. SO SORRY ABOUT THAT! **

"Cap the lever!" came Stark's panicked voice in the super soldier's ear. "The _lever!_ Come _on!_"

"I need a minute here!" he shouted back, rebounding the bullets at the gunman with his shield, evading shooter below him and reached out for the lever. "Got it!" The loud clanking in his ears stopped as Stark tumbled out of the engine, Iron Man suit pretty damaged and beat up from being tossed about in the equivalent of a giant blender. With a quick use of his sputtering thrusters, he flew at their adversaries, quickly eliminating the problem quite efficiently as he body slammed them.

"Stark, do you copy?" came Fury's tense voice. "Loki's out!" Rogers and Tony looked at each other. "I need you in the hangar bay, Thor, the Hulk is loose. Stark, we need you on the perimeter outside. Rogers, you copy? You're the only one available - "

"I'm on it, sir!" Steve said, sprinting full out down the halls. Loki was _not_ escaping, not on his watch.

* * *

"Step away please." Loki stopped with what he was doing and slowly walked into the open, eyeing the determined agent holding a gun that honestly made the god a little nervous.

"I suppose here is where you give some valiant quote," Loki sneered, covering up his fear quite effectively. However, the god of mischief looked over his shoulder at the sound of running footsteps. Someone was approaching, and they were in a hurry. Phil swallowed nervously, trying to keep his raging fear hidden. If they were reinforcements of his opponent, he wouldn't be able to hold everyone. He would have to turn his attention to the new comers and risk being attacked by Loki from behind, or he could keep his attention on the god and definitely be attacked from behind. Either way, it wouldn't be a good scenario. However, his spirits rose as he recognized the brief flash of red, white, and blue before his hero, his icon since childhood, arrived in the doorway.

Captain America. The odds suddenly looked a lot better, the agent thought as the soldier spoke.

"Stop, Loki." His voice was authoritative and firm. The demigod half-turned between the two, that sardonic, twisted expression on her face that made both men nervous. It was the expression of cruel mischief. The look of a very smart madman. Coulson swallowed and tightened his grip on his weapon.

"Ah, yes. The soldier out of time," he commented, fixing his dangerous gaze on Rogers before looking back at Coulson. "And his loyal follower. What would happen...I wonder...if - " With his eyes still fixed on the agent, Loki's hand swatted to the side, sending Rogers flying into the corner of the wall and ceiling, and throwing him telekinetically into Banner's cell. The man's heart dropped as the super soldier fell limply to the ground and made no move to rise. He was too taken aback by the sudden turn of events to react as the god began walking over to his victim.

"Loki, stop!" Coulson commanded, leveling the gun at his target. Loki turned back to face the agent after surveying his fallen prey, noting how the man was trying to sit up, but not managing to. Steve was in fact trying to stand, but something seemed wrong with him. His mind was fogged up and he couldn't seem to make coherent movements. He was, however, able to raise his head to meet the gaze of his comrade, giving a slight nod in response to Phil's unspoken question. _Are you okay? _He tried to stand again, but he couldn't move. It was aggravating, this unseen, intangible pressure was keeping him down, unable to help his friend as their dangerous foe advanced.

Too slow...

Loki gave the slightest smirk at the agent's false bravado. He knew the man was scared right now. It was so painfully, _delightfully_ obvious. _  
_

"You like this?" Coulson asked, anger at what had just happened giving him strength. "We started working on the prototype after you sent the destroyer." Loki slowly raised his hands, assuming a wary expression. _Pull him in, give him that sense of being in control of the situation_. The demigod barely managed to suppress his smirk as his ploy worked like a charm. "I don't even know what it does. Shall we find out?" he asked as the gun revved up. Steve watched the situation from his imprisoned state with a dry mouth. He had a feeling that something was going to go wrong, he was sure -

Loki suddenly appeared in two places. One was still in front of Phil, but the other -

"PHIL!" he shouted, trying to rise only to fall exhausted back onto the ground. "NO!"

Too late.

Coulson's cry of pain shook the immobile super soldier to his core as the agent arched his back and the tip of the scepter ripped through the front of his shirt, like a strange protrusion of the man's own body. His eyes were so shocked that the Avenger felt his own eyes take on the same expression.

"No..." he gasped, looking on horrified as Phil collapsed to the ground, weapon still in his hands, stunned look on his face. As though he couldn't believe what just happened to him actually happened. "No, Phil. Phil!" No response other than ragged breathing. That ragged breathing which hitched with every intake, rattling in his lungs as though some damage had been done to them. Ragged breathing that made the frozen soldier short of breath as well. "PHIL!" No answer save the breathing and the confused, stunned expression.

Loki gave a short bark of laughter directed at the two of them and began walking over to the console, giving his evil smirk to the still frozen WWII vet. The predicament he had created entertained him to no end, and, just for spite, he lifted his bloody scepter up and gestured to the red soaked metal as though it were an example of what happened when people tried to stop him.

"Paralyzing spell," the Norse god explained as Steve tried again, unsuccessfully, to stand. "Your serum seems to have taken the edge off of its strength though..." he added, slightly peeved as Steve, with a herculean effort managed to lift his upper body a few inches off the ground. He looked over at Phil, who was still sitting there, dazed. The painful gasps that had torn at the paralyzed man had diminished, leaving behind weak wheezes at the tail end of each breath. Steve didn't know which was worse: the rattling or this debilitated breathing.

"Let's see what your serum does in this instance. _Shall we?_" he added, mockingly, and looked over at Coulson, to whom he directed the last two words. Only to widen his eyes in surprise.

The brother of Thor went flying through the air, a fiery blast from the fallen man's gun throwing him through the solid metal wall. Immediately, Steve could move and he shakily pushed himself to his feet, scrambling to get to his comrade on unsteady legs. When he was within ear shot, the man weakly commented, "So that's what it does..."

Steve fell to his knees by the man and hesitated briefly before reaching out and gingerly pulled the heavy gun out of Phil's limp hands. He could see the irregular breathing pattern of the wounded man before him and tried to keep his fear from showing. But when he saw the alarming amount of blood that spread down the usually pristine button-down shirt, the soldier's mouth tightened and he pulled the man into his lap to better apply pressure to the stab.

"He get...he get you bad?" Phil asked weakly, eyes nearly closing as he tried to look at his comrade above him. The soldier marveled at how he could be worried about _him_ when he was bleeding out in his arms, blood seeping from Coulson's body to coat his uniform in a slick red.

"No, I'm alright. I'm okay, he didn't hurt me," Steve answered. "Don't move." Phil's mouth quirked in something close to a smile, but quickly turned into a grimace as pain racked his body.

"I think I'm starting to clock out here," he finally said. The words were spoken softly, acceptingly. Shaking his head in denial, the super soldier repositioned his knees so that he was applying adequate pressure to the entry wound. Steve noticed the man's traumatic shaking and reached out to hold Coulson's hand in comfort.

"_Not_ an option. I look to still sign those cards of yours. Just stay awake." Phil gave a small laugh and tiniest of smiles. One that was lined with blood and made Steve's stomach churn as he realized that this wasn't going to end well.

"It's okay. Working with you was an honor. Better than...anything else I've done. And dying for you all doesn't seem that bad," the agent commented in a weak, off-handed manner, and Rogers shook his head again. It seemed to be all he could do.

"No. Don't _do_ that. You'll still get to, hang on." He swallowed and tired to force something optimistic into his voice. "Your medics will fix you up just fine, just...don't _move_."

"Doesn't matter now." Coulson closed his eyes, and, when he opened them, Steve was looking at him in fear. Captain America. Looking at _him_ in fear. Suddenly, he felt something light in his entire body. His fingers and feet started to lose feeling and it was rapidly spreading up to his core. His vision also seemed to be getting a little fuzzy, and his slowed mind pinpointed what was happening after a few seconds of contemplation. He didn't have much time left.

"You need to...lead them. Bind them together," Phil said urgently, finally acknowledging the drifting feeling in his mind and body to be the end.

Steve nodded returning the tight, frantic grip the man had on his hand. "I will. Don't worry. And you can help me." Phil laughed and it was a painful sound that died into coughing. He shook his head, a humored smile on his lips.

"They weren't joking when they said that you were stubborn," he joked and shook his head. "It's okay, Captain..." he continued, tone serious and voice fading. "This never was going to work if they didn't have something to...to..." Steve watched and waited for the wounded man in his arms to finish his sentence, but he never did.

* * *

Later, the Avengers hit a lull in the fight for Manhattan, right before the rest of the army of Chitauri came through the portal into the city. The group of fighters paused in the midst of their desolation and turned to face the arriving forces as they descended about the tower. But while Romanoff, Barton, the Hulk, and Tony watched the new comers with wariness and an air of preparation, Steve was looking at the tower.

He was looking at the A. That tower rose high above everything else, strong and tall, despite the war going on. Like them.

And from that point on, the leader of the group could swear there was someone else by them. Someone else fighting beside them. Someone who held them together. Someone to avenge.

Because, shining above them like a guardian angel, was Philip J. Coulson's "A" for Avengers.

_Be still and know...that I'm with you. Be still and know...I am._


End file.
